Having had a monster of a sinus infection all week, rendering me unable to do little other than to sit and think (and cough), left a lot of time to ponder life. Because much of what I am normally able to do without a second thought was not an option this week, I focused my internal discussion on the aging process. This blog is the short product of that discussion.
What do you see in the distance, trying to cross the street? There. That little baked potato on tooth pick legs with a cotton ball hair-do. What do you see? Who do you see?
She is a grandmother and great-grandmother. You probably would have guessed as much. She was once three whole inches taller than she is now and loved to dance. Her long flowing body and beautiful auburn hair attracted the fiery passionate love of another. Until, it didn’t. Broken heart in hand, she moved through the bitterness. She gained a few pounds, gained a little wisdom, gained a few gray hairs. Then, she was loved deeply and truly. She was thought of as utterly beautiful. Her true love gave her four children, three of whom she is proud. The last one is rotten but never forgets her birthday. She is educated but not smotheringly so. She had a career. And then, she didn’t. She served her God and her community. She traveled the world and sampled weird food. She struggled through debt, death, loss, and grief. She loved through births, marriages, new traditions, and new friends.
She is now old but she still remembers all of these things, although sometimes not exactly in the right order. She is a treasure trove of love, laughter, loss, life. Just ask her.